


On Good Terms

by Artemis_Dreamer



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: (with benefits), Captain Conscience, Clintasha - Freeform, Crack, Dentist, FrostIron - Freeform, Hero/Villain Friendships, Humor, Multi, Postponed Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a climactic battle is postponed for a dentist appointment, the heroes are a bit too chummy with the villain, and only Steve sees the problem. Also, Iron Man and the God of Mischief are (unofficially) an item.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Good Terms

There are signs that your villain is on far too good terms with your heroes. This is one of them.

\---

An alarm went off on the HUD of Tony’s Iron Man suit, prompting him to grumble a curse. Typical. This always had to happen right in the middle of the climactic battles.

“Team,” Tony called over the communicators, addressing the assembled Avengers and their long-time nemesis. “You know how much I just love playing hero, but real life calls – I’ve got the dentist-from-hell in fifteen minutes. Any chance of a rain check on this?”

Steve Rogers responded with an indignant sound, but the rest of the team gave hums of assent.

“Sure,” Natasha agreed easily.

“Eh, why not,” Clint shrugged lightly.

“All right. I’d love to get out of this with all my clothes still intact.” That odd statement was from Bruce.

“Certainly, friend Stark!” And that, at ear-splitting volume, was the mighty Thor. 

One voice was notably absent – the voice of the chaos god hovering meters above their heads. So yeah, Loki’s. 

…Yes, Loki had a communicator too. As well as a StarkPhone, the contact numbers of each one of the heroes, and an Avengers Tower apartment. (What? It made their lives that much easier.)

“So, Loki-dokes, not going to cut me a break to get this molar looked at?” Tony jibed lightly. It was the trickster’s assent that really mattered here. After all, he was the one commanding this latest invasion force.

“Oh, for the love of-” that indignant remark had been a highly annoyed Steve.

“Shut it spangles – the big boys are negotiating here.” Ah yes, the legendary Stark tact.

Clearing his throat and hiding a smirk, Loki finally replied. “Well, if you mere mortals would allow me a word in edgewise, I was about to say that I have no objections at all.”

A round of what might or might not have been stifled exclamations of relief from the Avengers team. They had gotten out of another potentially devastating city-wide conquest attempt on a technicality. 

“Just allow me to send this pack of thuggish brutes back to where they came from.”

Loki turned and spoke a few words in a strange, guttural language to the assembled horde of serpentine beasts. A rumble of satisfaction was his response, though some measure of impatience was clearly there. One final word, and the trickster dismissed this impatient horde with a wave of his hand and a flourish of brilliant green magic.

“Now,” he continued. “Is Friday morning a suitable time for us to resume?”

(Today was Wednesday – he was wisely factoring in an extra day for Tony’s inevitable painkiller hangover to wear off.)

“Ah, Nat and I will be at that couples’ spa that morning,” Clint admitted.

“Friday afternoon, then?” Just a hint of irritation had crept into the mischief-maker’s level tone.

“Alright,” Natasha assented. 

“Suits me,” Clint grinned sheepishly.

“A most appropriate time, brother!” Thor boomed, clapping his younger (adopted) sibling on the shoulder with enough force to snap a mortal neck. There may have been an answering grumble of ‘Again, I’m not your thrice-damned brother.’

“The other guy will be ready.” Bruce agreed wearily. It was always nice to postpone time spent as an enormous green rage monster.

“I still say that this is absolute nonsens-” Steve began again, trying to draw attention to what he saw as a severe moral crisis, and everyone just saw as a damn good deal. 

“Shut it, Captain Tight-Pants.” Yup, the Stark tact again.

“Ah, so we are agreed. Wonderful.” Loki spoke smoothly, very much at ease with the conversation. It was almost as if he had been through this routine dozens upon dozens of times… nah, that would just be implausible.

Causing his elaborate metal armor to vanish with a shrug of his shoulders, the trickster materialized on the pavement beside Tony. Said billionaire was already collapsing his armor suit down into convenient briefcase form, with haste befitting a man with a healthy fear of sharp metal implements in close proximity to his gums.

Loki laid a hand on the other man’s forearm. “Shall we, Anthony?”

“Aww, does our little Tony-baloney need moral support at the scary dentist?” Clint mocked in a babyish tone.

“Not the time, Cupid.” The inventor snapped, before continuing more calmly. “Lokes, get in the car. We’re leaving – Dr. Matthews will have my goddamn head if I’m a second late. She bumped some rat-dog-owning starlet down a week and a half for this.”

Bristling a bit at having been ordered around, Loki nonetheless slid into the passenger’s seat of his lover’s gleaming silver Maserati convertible. (Which really didn’t belong in a combat zone.)

After all, the pair had a charade to keep up, that of Tony being the team’s plant in the trickster’s confidence, a plant whom was gathering information about his plans on the sly. (Their actual relationship was more along the lines of passionate, if secret, lovers.)

“Great work today, team.” Tony smirked, only half sarcastically. “Don’t wait up.”

Laughing to himself, the billionaire pulled the sleek car away from the curb, turned a sloppy u-turn, and shot off down Seventh Avenue at what must have been twice the legal speed limit.

The Avengers could clearly see Loki lean across to press what he likely thought was a subtle kiss on his lover’s stubbled cheek. 

(Clint gagged, Bruce smiled serenely, Steve flushed scarlet, Thor guffawed, and Natasha stifled a smirk.)

Did they seriously still think that no-one knew about their relationship? They’d been screwing around for months, and their actual screwing was none-too-silent. Ah, it was almost cute – grown men, sneaking around like high-school lovers. Bruce thought that it was cute, at least; No-one else on the team really DID cute.

A familiar AC/DC refrain faded into the distance as the sports car turned the corner, taking the “chaos couple of the century” to what was undisputedly the worst place on earth. 

\---

Watching the scene unfold from a remote monitoring station beneath the streets of Washington D.C, so many states away, Director Fury felt a vein twitch in his forehead. 

Honestly though, it was more from exasperation than from genuine fury – This one-trick villain was on far too good terms with his heroes. 

He had to admit, however, that each morally questionable deal that the two sides made was a small mercy; these “agreements” were saving SHIELD millions in rampage cleanup. 

Live and let live? At least for now.

\---

Meanwhile, the remaining Avengers were piling back into Clint’s old Chevy van, affectionately dubbed “Piece of Shit” (or PoS for short). They were grinning, chuckling and chattering amongst themselves, but all a tad resentful. 

Trust Tony to take off with their only decent wheels and leave them to trek back to the tower in this undignified Quinjet-replacement. 

(It’s a long story involving Dr. Doom and a Tactical Cheese Grenade. Don’t ask.)

The current topic of conversation was something along the lines of “how on earth does a billionaire get a cavity anyway”, with the discussion including far too much speculation about ice-cream and how it factored into said billionaire’s sex life. So yeah, a thoroughly awesome and thoroughly traumatic discussion.

Of course, it was Captain Conscience that had to ruin this rare carefree moment, speaking up as Clint coaxed the aging vehicle into second gear.

“This really isn’t right – tell me that you see it! For us, the heroes, to be dealing with our enemy like this! He’s a murderer, for pity’s sake, a-”

The exasperated response of the others was as co-ordinated as if they had planned it.

“Steve! Enough!”

Wisely, the good captain shut up.

Both halves of the team (because honestly, Loki was part of the team, in a sick sort of way) were on the move. Loki and Tony were zooming off into their perfect sunset; to their happily ever after and to the evil dentist-lady. The rest of the gang was trundling off east, to their tower, looking forward to a delivery thin-crust pizza and hopefully some peace and quiet.

The day had been saved from the villainous trickster. Bards would sing tales of this day, of another hard-fought, hard-won victory for the Avengers… or perhaps not.

I suppose them’s the breaks when your heroes and your villain just happen to be on good terms.

\---

Oh, and just for the record? Tony Stark and Novocain are NEVER a good combination.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my latest work of nonsense! This one was written while stone-cold sober, I swear.
> 
> As always, comments and feedback are most welcome.
> 
> On a more serious note, I should tell y'all that this may be my last post for some time - with the arrival of summer, I'm going to be spending long hours in counselling and therapy-type-stuff for my manic-depression. So, not much time for writing crack fiction.  
> (Yes, this nutty fangirl is actually nuts.)
> 
> Thanks again for your time and your readership.
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
